


maybe don't

by kunimi_blep



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi loves Bokuto so much, Blowjobs, Deepthroating, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Kitchen Sex, M/M, PWP, they are in love your honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimi_blep/pseuds/kunimi_blep
Summary: Akaashi hardly ever says no to Bokuto. He sure as hell isn't gonna start now.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	maybe don't

**Author's Note:**

> reworked an old fic into bokuaka bec i think it's very fitting, don't @ me if you're an old mutual please

"Who even told you to wear pants like that? You didn't even send me a picture before you went out," Bokuto whines as the door closes behind them, and they both walk over to the kitchen on instinct. Akaashi sighs as he opens the fridge and moves to take the pitcher to pour some water for himself, but Bokuto stops him with a grip to his wrist. Akaashi briefly mourns the loss of the cold from the open refrigerator when Bokuto reaches his free hand over to close it for him. 

He's pouting.  _ What is this even about, really... _

Bokuto has made it a habit to always force Akaashi to send him pictures of his outfits before he leaves for work. Not that it takes much “force”, because Akaashi is smitten enough as it is that he gives in every single time, no matter how much he claims he’s no fashion icon. 

And at first, it was probably just because Bokuto liked the fact that he's the only one who ever receives those old-fashioned full-mirror length selfies, or maybe it was just the high of fresh relationships and new romance at finally having gotten Akaashi--  _ the _ Akaashi Keiji, apparently-- to say yes to being his boyfriend, and thinking Akaashi loves him too much (which is correct and true, actually), he doesn’t think he’s pushing his luck asking for this.

Maybe he just couldn't get enough of his boyfriend, after years of mutual pining, that he has to have pictures of him saved on his phone-- a surprisingly endearing thing if Akaashi really takes the time to think about and admit it, it’s sweet and it’s Bokuto and it’s them.

But now, quite frankly, a few months into this entire thing that they are and discovering that neither of their libidos can really keep themselves calm when they're around each other, Akaashi won't even be surprised if Bokuto suddenly states that he jacks off to those damned pictures even though there is nothing near stimulating about him wearing his dumb slacks-- no, wait, he'd be surprised if Bokuto actually says he does that, that'd be a little disturbing-- or arousing,  _ uhm _ , he can't really choose right now. But it's not like Bokuto has to do that, take care of himself, he means, when they spend so much time together and Akaashi comes over to Bokuto's apartment so much that Atsumu thinks of him as their new roommate already anyway.

The point here now is that he didn't send a picture before he met up with Bokuto today mainly because this was one of the (very few, he'll admit) pairs of pants he didn't really feel confident wearing (he should really just stick to slacks instead of fitting jeans), because Atsumu had teased him too much about it when they'd gone out and bought it together when Bokuto was too sick to go to the mall with him and had to stay behind crying over the fact that his new boyfriend is hanging out with his dimwit of a teammate. 

Really, Akaashi remembers it so well, Atsumu had smirked so much that Akaashi had so much wanted to punch his face, and he couldn't understand what it was then if it wasn't because the pants didn't fit him well. So one missed picture shouldn't be a big deal for Bokuto... Right?

"It was an ugly outfit," Akaashi deadpans, but he feels like he means it anyway, that little twinge of insecurity suddenly creeping up and roiling in his stomach again before Bokuto sends him a look of disbelief, mouth agape and wide eyes roaming over Akaashi's form, as if assessing and then taking him in. Before Akaashi has the chance to raise his fist to his mouth and cover up his embarrassment with a fake cough, Bokuto grips his shoulders.

"Ugly," Bokuto exclaims incredulously. " _ Akaashi _ .” His voice is caught between a frustrated whine and something else. “Don't you know what seeing you in those did to me--"

Akaashi thinks he understands now, all of a sudden, the look in Bokuto’s eyes and how he couldn’t look up when he says his name to get his attention back, he understands now, but he wants to joke about it in case (though he highly doubts it) he's getting it wrong.

"Why is it such a big deal, it's not like I made you hard or--" Akaashi's eyes travel down to the front of Bokuto's own pants subconsciously, and he feels Bokuto shake him the same time he hears an awkward cough. Akaashi looks back up. "Okay, fine, never mind."

The sudden silence makes Akaashi's skin prickle with heat, a little tense and a little heavy, but he isn't sure if it's because Bokuto's roommate turned the heating on in the kitchen too early again or if it's because Bokuto's gaze is so hot and heavy on him.

"You really don't know what you do to me," Bokuto says now, voice devoid of any whining or joking, and Akaashi can't bring it in himself to decide what emotion he's just heard from his words. It makes him uncomfortable at first, the uncertainty, but then Bokuto smiles down at him, all open and admiring-- desiring, even, and his insides burn with something he only really feels when Bokuto touches him.

And the urge to drag Bokuto by his gelled hair to his bedroom comes crashing down with a force that overwhelms him in a way it never really has. Not in this way, he hasn't felt it this way just yet.

"Akaashi," Bokuto calls, voice lower and more quiet this time, but enough to have Akaashi's concentration back so his eyes lock with Bokuto's. "You really," Bokuto is dropping to his knees but he is looking up, keeping eye contact, "Really," Bokuto leans forward and nuzzles at the rough fabric against Akaashi's thigh, lets his words get muffled as he speaks with his mouth right against cloth, but Akaashi hears what he says next loud and clear anyway. "Don't know what you do to me."

When Bokuto leaves a kiss right against his zipper, he falls back just a little in surprise and in just the first hints of pleasure, and he sits himself down on the kitchen bench beside the fridge he is actually now thankful for.

"Bokuto-san, what are you doing," Akaashi hisses in a rush, throat already feeling suspiciously dry. He tries to pull Bokuto up by his shoulders, all broad and sturdy,  _ damn it _ , but his hands are slapped away by Bokuto's own, and he instantly goes back to fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. "Get up--"

"Stop resisting," Bokuto commands, tentative but easy, and even though he's pressing the heel of his palm heavily against Akaashi's crotch, he says this in a soft voice Akaashi knows is to make him understand that he isn't really upset. For all of Bokuto’s moods, he is never _ ever _ upset with Akaashi. "Let me."

"Not here--"

"Akaashi." He feels Bokuto's fingertips running against his thighs as he drags his tight pants down, barely even having to force Akaashi to lift his own weight off of his seat because he does it all on his own volition. When his pants are discarded gingerly to the floor beside Bokuto's kneeled form, Bokuto hoists his legs over his shoulders, and he feels himself shudder when Bokuto's nails scrape against his skin, harshly just the way he likes it.

Akaashi swallows down a moan, because it would be too weak, it would be too soon, he's still supposed to keep pretending he didn't already like where this was going; Bokuto hasn't even started touching him yet and here he is, so close to creaming his boxers like a hormonal teenage boy at just the sight of Bokuto's head between his legs, hair a mess after a long day and long neck stretched enticingly.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," Bokuto's lips move right against the skin of one of his knees, and he’s looking right up at him, eyes wide and pupils blown, and the gentleness is still there behind the cloud of lust Akaashi hasn't gotten used to yet. "Tell me that I can."

"Bokuto-san, we--"

"Please?"

Akaashi acquiesces, "Fine," drawing his hands back from where he was still trying to push Bokuto off and resting them down by his sides. He runs his fingers lightly against the smooth wood of the kitchen bench to distract himself, tries to bite back how he thinks they shouldn't be doing this here even though he knows there isn't any stopping Bokuto--or himself, if he's being honest-- now, how Atsumu or even Hinata could just walk out of their rooms to get a drink or something and see them in such a compromising position, how they're doing this right in the kitchen, for fuck's sake-- but Bokuto is leaving kisses in a warm trail up and down his thighs and he can't be bothered to think about anything else that isn't Bokuto's mouth on him.

"Akaashi," he hears him call from below him, and he feels Bokuto nuzzle him again, but this time right in front of his boxers, right where he's thinking Bokuto shouldn't if he wants this to last longer. "Akaashi?"

"Mm?"

Bokuto's fingers slowly, carefully, push some cloth up until his boxers are hiked up the highest they can get, to expose more skin, and Bokuto turns his head to nip lightly there. Bokuto's teeth are sharp but light on his skin and Akaashi wants him to bite just that bit harder, but he doesn't know how to ask because he still thinks it's a little embarrassing--

"Would you get mad if I leave marks?"

"Huh?" Akaashi's brain is slow and he has to work a little harder to try and make sense of what Bokuto is trying to tell him.

"If I bite," he changes his words. "If I bite, is that okay?"

Then it clicks.

_ Yes _ , Akaashi wants to answer.  _ Yes, please, yes. _

But his words are still stuck in his throat, and if Bokuto notices Akaashi watching him in askance, he doesn't point it out.

What he does, though, is reach up to take Akaashi's hands in his, all calloused and big, guiding them to his hair. When Akaashi lets his fingers relax on either side of Bokuto's head, Bokuto lets them go and resumes gripping his thighs, this time a little tighter, hands a little heavier, fingertips a little more insistent.

"Pull," he thinks he hears Bokuto whisper, so Akaashi does, gives an experimental tug on his hair, and he feels more than hears Bokuto groan a low  _ 'fuck' _ of approval.

Bokuto dives right back in, and Akaashi can literally feel Bokuto breathing his scent in, like he couldn't get enough, can feel how much Bokuto is dying to taste him, and he lets his mind drift off to thoughts about how good it's going to be when Bokuto finally pulls his shorts down.

But Bokuto is taking his sweet, precious time, spreading his legs even farther apart, nosing at the inside of his thigh again, pulling a patch of his skin in between his lips and sucking-- and he wants Bokuto to suck harder, but he still can't say it out loud. He pulls at his hair again, though, in hopes that Bokuto would, by some sort of lust-driven magic telepathy, understand him.

And Bokuto does understand, he thinks, but careful and caring as he always is, he's waiting for Akaashi’s permission to do it, to do what Akaashi wants him to, Akaashi can tell; and he wants to give in, it shouldn't be that hard. Bokuto doesn't even need to ask, Akaashi thinks, at this point he's just about ready to give Bokuto every part of himself, just about ready to have Bokuto do anything to him, god, Bokuto can just--

"Akaashi, can I?" Bokuto is looking up at him again, and when their gazes lock, Akaashi feels himself nodding quickly, any guise of acting disinterested gone, to answer as he finally breathes out a  _ yeah, yes, please, Bokuto-san. _

And this time, Akaashi doesn't even attempt to hold back a moan when Bokuto's teeth sink into his flesh. It's supposed to hurt, it's supposed to sting, but all Akaashi feels is how badly he wants to push Bokuto's mouth against himself harder. And that's what he does, grips Bokuto by his hair to keep him still as he raises his thigh just a little, and Bokuto gets the clue and obliges to the silent command for more.

With a lingering lick and then a final suck, Bokuto lifts his head, and his grin is lazy as he tilts his chin up. "Baby," he whispers, licking his lips, dragging his palms harshly against both of his thighs before dipping his finger into the spot he'd just bitten. The pressure of it makes one part of Akaashi want to shift back and flinch away from the touch, but the other, much stronger part of him just wants to use his legs to pull Bokuto back in again for a matching mark on his other thigh.

And he decides, very easily, when Bokuto calls him baby again, that that's what he should do.

Time feels a little unreal at the moment, and Bokuto is just driving him somewhere entirely different with so much pleasure, and he doesn't know, how long he's been sitting there with Bokuto's head between his legs, how many times Bokuto's bitten him hard enough to bruise. But he knows that he doesn't have it in himself to stop Bokuto when he starts toying with the waistband of his boxers with those long fingers of his and drags it all the way down to his ankles much, much easier than he had done with his pants.

"I'll keep them on," Bokuto smiles to himself at his decision, ducking under Akaashi's legs and coming up in the space between his thighs. "Come on," Bokuto prompts in reminder, and Akaashi rests the back of his thighs on Bokuto's shoulders again, hands coming back up to run through the black and white of his hair.

Bokuto lets out an exhale, and his mouth is so close that Akaashi feels the warmth of his breath on his erection, and it makes him shiver. And he wants Bokuto's lips wrapped around him, wants his cock down Bokuto's throat. And he's thinking about asking again, but Bokuto's tongue is already there, hot on the tip, swirling teasingly before fitting itself right against the slit of the head of his cock before Akaashi even has to ask for anything.

"Bokuto-san," he quietly asks for more attention than he already has, wanting to test out the nickname on his own tongue, too. "Baby."

He feels Bokuto's mouth sink down onto him in response, hot and wet and tight when Bokuto takes him in fully. His nose presses against Akaashi and it tickles the little hairs on his skin when Bokuto breathes out through his nose, but he doesn't laugh, nor does he push him away. He crosses his ankles behind Bokuto's neck to pull him even closer, the bunched up fabric of his boxers pressed to the skin of his nape.

When Bokuto hums, the vibrations go straight from Bokuto's lips to the small of Akaashi's back, and he feels frissons of nothing but pleasure shooting up his spine.

He wants to moan out loud, tell Bokuto how good it feels, promise him that he'll return the favor just as good after this if he wants, make Bokuto admit that this is good for him, too. Because when he lets go of one of Akaashi's thighs to snake a hand down his own body, to stroke and to press the heel of his palm against the front of his own jeans this time, and when he moans at his own touch, right around his cock, Akaashi wants to tell him to  _ keep your hands on me, Bokuto-san, only me _ . But he doesn't, because Bokuto chooses that exact moment to look up and into Akaashi's eyes again, bright and glinting and  _ excited _ .

Akaashi uses the hands he has still tangled in Bokuto's hair for leverage, because Bokuto is steady and strong as always under him, and he slides himself forward and a little off the bench to give a thrust. He feels how Bokuto almost chokes, but he doesn't let go and tries to take him even deeper, doesn’t entertain the thought of taking Akaashi out of his mouth for even a second, and when he's taken him in all the way again, tip hitting the back of his throat, Akaashi almost can't help the quiet cry that escapes his lips.

By now Bokuto has unbuttoned and unzipped his pants just enough to give himself only scant relief, and Akaashi nudges Bokuto's back with a foot to try to get Bokuto's hand back to his thigh, because just one hand isn't enough for him when he craves all of Bokuto, because he's feeling a little selfish and a little possessive, and he isn’t usually like this,  _ he swears _ , but he just wants Bokuto's touch on just him alone.

Akaashi squeezes his thighs together as they tremble, Bokuto's head still caught in between, and he looks concentrated and determined to keep going even as pre-come drips onto his tongue, because he knows just what to do and how to do it until Akaashi loses control over his own actions and tries to keep him from breathing-- the way they’d learned about by accident that one time Boktuo could barely breathe when Akaashi choked him and he came in his pants. But now isn't the time for that, Akaashi thinks, even as he pulls at his hair harder and slouches forward so that the top of Bokuto's head is under his stomach, because he wants Bokuto breathless for all the different reasons.

He keeps their positions like this, because like this Bokuto is taking him even deeper than he thought should be possible, and like this, he can feel Bokuto trembling, too, his head still attempting big movements back and forth even when Akaashi has him restrained good. 

A little while after, though, Akaashi feels Bokuto groan around his cock again, and out of fear that he's gone too far and hurt him, even though he knows Bokuto would tell him if he has, he sits straight back up, pulling Bokuto back by his hair, but not enough to have his mouth entirely off of him. Bokuto’s lips are still closed around the tip of his cock and his tongue is working languidly against it.

He knows his eyes are probably a little wild now so if Bokuto asks to stop a while to calm the both of them down, he wouldn't have objected.

But when he looks, he is only met with the view of Bokuto staring up at him, pleased at having been used so roughly and selfishly, wanting. He’s moved back a little bit more now, but he still hasn't pulled off, the tip of Akaashi's cock resting against the jut of his lower lip. He surprises Akaashi when he pushes forward, bobs his head up and down a couple more times, making sure to hollow his cheeks, sucking really hard, as if he's coaxing-- forcing-- Akaashi's release out of him, before he’s finally pulling away to breathe.

The sloppy sound of his cock dragging against Bokuto’s lips on its way out of his mouth is so loud and so arousing and so filthy that Akaashi has to wrap a hand around himself to hold himself back from shoving his cock right back into Bokuto's mouth, still hanging open as he pants.

Bokuto hasn't pulled back enough to give him space yet even when Akaashi has moved his legs apart already to release him, and he can't move his hand as freely as he wants to because Bokuto is still breathing in and out with his nose still pressed to the skin of Akaashi's hip, his cheek resting so high up on his thigh.

When Akaashi moves his thigh from under his head, Bokuto follows just as fast and bites again at his skin, moves lower and lower, then higher and higher. Irregularly, he switches between soft bites and hard ones, some fleeting and some lingering for longer.

He wants to come, god, he wants to come, because Bokuto's so good at this, Bokuto’s mouth feels so good, and he's thinking about the colors his thighs are going to take on when Bokuto is done with him--

So with one hand, he attempts to pull Bokuto away by his hair, his other still around his cock. Bokuto's nails dig so deep into his skin in protest against being apart from Akaashi that he knows there are going to be red crescents there when Bokuto finally lets go, and his cock twitches at the images he conjures up in his head.

He pulls again. Bokuto resists, though, catching some more flesh between his teeth, pulling with the latch he’s made as far as he can, letting them sink into the skin with a possessive growl-- as if Bokuto was saying,  _ you're mine, right? _ Bokuto hums, then.  _ You are. _

With a little more force in his pull this time, Bokuto finally relents, gives one last harsh suck and nip, and he knows right then and there that that one is going to leave the darkest mark. Akaashi shudders again at the thought.

Akaashi's grip on his hair does not loosen even when he has Bokuto farther, where he wants him, so he pulls again, tilts his head far enough so the skin on Bokuto's neck stretches taut and his adam's apple bobs when he groans.

"Pretty," Akaashi whispers, more to himself than to the man on his knees between his legs, staring at how Bokuto's moist lips are opening and closing to breathe, his swallows wet and loud, and how Bokuto's strands look so attractive slipping between his fingers, shining black and white where the sunlight from the window above them hits his hair, smooth but messy in the way  _ he _ was responsible for.

His quiet praise catches Bokuto's attention and he absently looks up at him. His breathing is erratic, still, when he speaks. "Are you close?"

"Yeah," Akaashi weakly gasps, breathes out when he holds himself by the base and runs the tip of his cock against Bokuto's cheek, then over his soft lips. "Yeah."

He starts stroking himself at the pace Bokuto had done for him a couple times before, the same pace that Bokuto always uses to make him come faster, the same pace that has him attempting to say Bokuto's name unbroken when he climaxes. 

It's different, of course, his hands aren't as rough and as big and as firm as Bokuto's. But Bokuto is on his knees, right in front of him, watching the movement of his hand with such rapt attention, so, so intently, as if he can feel Bokuto’s hand on himself, and even if Bokuto isn't touching him the way he would have loved him to, he's sure it has just the same effect.

He lets his eyelids slip closed to let himself drown in the feeling, and he can feel it, he's almost there, just a few more pulls, god, he’s so close--

"Baby."

Akaashi's eyes snap open at the hoarse whisper and fixates on Bokuto's face-- and his mouth looks so slick and so shiny and so soft and the way it moves when Bokuto mouths,  _ come _ , has Akaashi shaking in his release.

He tugs himself through it, barely keeping his eyes open enough to watch as spurts of hot sticky white land right on the bow of Bokuto's upper lip, and on his mouth, and on his tongue when he tries to catch it before it drips down his chin. When Bokuto closes his eyes and licks his lips clean, swallows the little bit that was in his mouth, he looks so delighted, so pleased, touching his own cock, and Akaashi is bending down to kiss him before he can stop himself.

Bokuto almost staggers back in surprise, but by Akaashi's ankles locked back behind his neck and Akaashi's clean hand on his cheek, he kisses back with so much passion in no time that Akaashi tastes himself on Bokuto's tongue and moans.

Bokuto is smiling up at him when he pulls away, satisfied and still so, so hot, and Akaashi can't stop himself from smiling back as he lets go.

And he's reaching out to cradle Bokuto's jaw with his other hand when he realizes he shouldn't, because his hand is a little, well, wet, still, and dirty from the remainder of his release that didn’t come out in spurts, and even though the image of Bokuto with his come on his cheeks-- or anywhere on his face-- is really too tempting to resist, Akaashi holds himself back lest he get hard all over again.

He wipes his hand off on his thigh, flinching when he accidentally presses on the fresh marks blooming on his skin he almost forgot about.

Bokuto grins impishly at that as he ducks, licking the skin clean of his come and sucking, still, at the fresh pink bruises, and Akaashi's thighs twitch at the oversensitivity.

He's about to attempt a kick at Bokuto when fingers suddenly smooth over his hip-- a sign from Bokuto to stay still for just a while. Then he feels it, Bokuto mouthing words, his lips moving against his skin.  _ I love you _ , he seemed to say-- cheesy, innocent, sincere and genuine, as if Bokuto hadn't just blown him right there in the kitchen, as if Akaashi hadn't been against this idea the first few seconds Bokuto had complained about his pants looking too good on him. 

But it's still so true, he's still so true, the way Bokuto always is, and it very well makes Akaashi's heart swell.

And Akaashi voices it out loud himself when Bokuto finally lets go of him entirely, his head still tilted up as he rests his weight on his heels and he supports himself with his arms behind his back, hands on the floor.

"Bokuto-san,” Akaashi starts as Bokuto ducks his head to fix himself up. Bokuto’s hands still from where he’s been tucking his still hard cock back into his underwear and jeans. He looks up, eyes soft and smile small. “I love you, too. You know that, right?"

"When did I say it first," Bokuto teases, but he hums in acknowledgement when Akaashi takes his teasing with a smile instead of his usual roll of the eyes. "Of course I know," he answers seriously, but he chuckles as he struggles to get back to his feet.

The bulge in his pants is hard to miss when he's finally stood up, and Akaashi is already reaching a hand forward to help out and return the favor as fast as possible when Bokuto catches his wrist in a grip, much like just minutes earlier today. Bokuto looks at him questioningly. "What is it?"

"Let me take care of that," Akaashi says, and he isn't sure if it's because he knows Bokuto wants him to or if it's because Akaashi actually wants to himself. It's a little bit of both, he decides, his eyes locked on the front of Bokuto's pants, and he hears a breathy laugh. "Let me take care of you, Bokuto-san."

"It's fine--"

"You don't want me to?" Akaashi only asks this to get Bokuto to say it now, because if Bokuto really doesn't want him-- and he seriously doubts that thought, wouldn’t believe it even if Bokuto says so-- then he'd keep his hands (and well, mouth) to himself.

Bokuto's eyes widen for only a second before they're hooded and looking down at him again. Bokuto eyes the fabric of Akaashi's boxers still pooled around his ankles, and he licks his lips-- damn, Akaashi loves that tongue-- then the one corner of his mouth is lifting up in a-- _goddamn attractive, shit_ \-- smirk. "I want you."

Akaashi lets himself smirk back only because of course he does.

Bokuto's voice is deep when he gives a sound of confirmation. "Yeah, I want you to."

"Then," Akaashi whispers, standing up from his position on the bench, not bothering to pull his underwear back up because he can honestly feel himself hardening all over again already. He steps out of them and kicks it under the bench, walking forward until he has Akaashi backed up against the wall, Bokuto’s roommates be damned.

He leans forward to rest his forehead on Bokuto's shoulder, tilts his head to leave a kiss on the side of his neck. He slowly, slowly trails his hand down the front of Bokuto's torso, from right in the middle of his firm chest down to the already barely-done button and zipper of his jeans, a single finger hooking into the garter of Bokuto’s black boxers. "Let me."

**Author's Note:**

> if you finished reading this, kudos and comments would be appreciated <3


End file.
